


Forget Me Not Dipper Pines

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Eventual Smut, M/M, Major Character Injury, Older!Dipper, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 10:11:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6324952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper frowned as he thought on it, reaching up the relatively clean fingertips of his other hand to the soft petals within his line of sight. He gently fiddled with the flowers before pointedly looking away from them and to the remnants of Bill Cipher.</p><p>“At least I won't forget.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget Me Not Dipper Pines

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I've been itching to write as of late, and might continue?

There was dirt under his nails, Dipper noticed. Not enough to make him put in the effort to clean them yet the small specks were there nonetheless, tauntingly so. His elbows dug into the newly polished counter of the Mystery Shack, having been rebuilt since...well, it didn’t really matter anymore did it? It took him a few years to come back, but only because the Stan twins had took it upon themselves to travel the world like they planned. Since then, Dipper had control over the shack with Mabel popping in and out like she usually does, either running tours or working at Greasy’s Diner to pay for college. It wasn't necessarily the best job, but knowing his sister she got by easily enough.

Dipper’s sunken in gaze refocused on his nails until a familiar ring caught his attention if only vaguely. He lazily looked up from his hand to find Mabel leaning against shacks entryway with a bright smile wide enough to make her doe eyes squint in mirth. Her face was full of color, cheeks rosy and hair combed thoroughly. She was the very contrast of himself with his curlier hair unruly and roughly greasy from not having a shower for at least a day or two. He couldn’t really remember.

Mabel’s smile only faltered briefly as she examined him, walking further in and fiddling with the worn olive strap of a bedazzled bag over her shoulder. “Have you been getting enough sleep, Dippin’ Dot?

“Yeah. Just been a long day.” Dipper tried his best to smile without it looking forced.

The look on his sister's face told him she didn’t believe him for even a mere second yet she accepted his answered with a pat on his shoulder and softer smile. “Good! But, since I’m going off for a few days with Grenda and Candy I decided to give you this gift I've been working on!”

A genuine smile pulled at Dipper’s lips. “A gift, huh?”

He wasn’t graced with an answer save for the rustling of Mabel’s brightly yellow painted nails digging into the bag that hung at her hip. Her lips were pursed in concentration, giving Dipper a minute to narrow his eyes at the more professional stitching along her sweater. The fabric was adorned with wispy clouds among a sunset-esque sky.

Dipper was aware of how much Mabel progressed in her sweater making though he never realized just how far she’d come, looking as though she just picked her clothing up at a store not too long ago. Surely the college she was attending had noticed as well. He was brought out of his stupor with a t-shirt being shoved into his chest.

“Check it out!” Mabel squeaked in delight, releasing her grip on the shirt when Dipper took hold of it.

He held it out in front of him with a raised brow when face to face with a pine tree stitched to the front of the creamy white shirt. It was the equivalent of his old hat, most likely still in Wendy’s possession. The tree and sleeves of t-shirt were nearly the same shade of blue as well. Dipper lowered the article of clothing to stare at Mabel's expectant doe eyes.

“I...I don’t know what to say, Mabes.”

She raised a hand. “I remembered that Wendy took your old hat when we were thirteen so...” The twin trailed off before shaking her head and flashing him a pearly white smile free of braces. “Just wear it, dipping sauce. And I’ll be back on friday, alright?”

Dipper figured he’d be able to survive three days without the presence of his twin and absentmindedly nodded as she left the Mystery Shack with a faint ring of the door. His eyes remained fixed to where she left before tearing his line of sight away and back to the shirt in his fingers. He almost wondered how long it took Mabel to even make it, no less making a t-shirt rather than her usual sweaters. It was soft and maybe a size too big albeit Dipper found himself walking up to the attic in a tired daze to try it on anyway when he heard a slam of a door. He’d only halfway turned when a body collided into his own in a tight hug against his side.

“M-Mabel?” he hissed, attempting to catch his breath.

He was answered with a crippling squeeze when Mabel dug her chin into his shoulder. “Couldn’t just leave without saying a proper goodbye, bro!”

Dipper inhaled sharply. “T-that’s nice...but I can’t breathe.”

Mabel huffed, though she complied and dropped her arms with a small smile. “Just wait until I get back, dipdop! I’ll have two days worth of sibling hugs waiting for you,” she declared, hands on her hips.

“Can’t wait,” Dipper said softly, chuckling faintly and facing his sister.

Her hands rose to rest on his biceps. “Okay, just...get some actual sleep.” She paused, pursing her lips and patting his shoulders. “But if you _absolutely_ can’t sleep, I wrote down my Mabel juice recipe. It’s in the attic on your bed.”

Dipper laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem, Dipper,” Mabel said softly, smiling brightly as she released him and turned on her heel. “Till friday!” she shouted, waving her hand as she left.

Silence lingered for a few moments, prompting Dipper to make his way back to the attic. The room was comfortable in size considering Mabel took Stan’s old room, leaving him enough space to set up a desk littered with papers and ink stains. He tossed the t-shirt lazily onto his bed next to a pink piece of paper with rushed handwriting on it, the glitter lining the paper revealing it to be Mabel’s work. Dipper smiled, unbuttoning his crimson plaid shirt in a few swift movements. Beneath it, his chest was bare and stained with few scars and dirt he’d never really bothered to clean. He wanted to blame it on being lazy though he’d be lying and reassure himself that it was because he just didn’t care.

In a matter of a few seconds, the button up shirt was carelessly tossed to the floor and Dipper forced himself to trudge into the bathroom when he overall decided he felt grimy. In the mirror he saw a man of twenty two who looked like something in a before and after energy drink ad, being the before in his case. Dark circles lined his eyes like bruises, a layer of stubble lining his jawline and chin. Dipper ran his hand over his face, followed by his digits reaching into the shower to turn on the water. It was no wonder that Mabel asked if he had gotten any sleep...he more or less looked deprived of it.

He reached down to shove his jeans and other articles of clothing from his hips and step into the comforting heat of the shower. It was a welcomed feeling against his skin, washing away the dirt and sweat from his pores. Silence crept into the cockles of his mind, plaguing him with the past events that all but crippled Gravity Falls. Dipper wasn’t blind to the statue sitting not far into the woods surrounding the Mystery Shack, though he wasn’t sure if the others were aware or just didn’t talk about it. He sighed, not bothering to wash himself extensively and more to atleast clean the smell of ‘double decaying zombie’ as Mabel had once put it.

Steam took to the air in streams as Dipper walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, making his way back to the attic. Once he got back to the slightly messy room he rummaged through disheveled drawers for a pair of boxers and jeans that were clean enough in a sense that they didn’t smell bad. Out of sheer luck there was a black belt already already looped inside of the faded jeans. After pulling on the boxers and jeans with little effort, Dipper plucked the shirt Mabel graciously made him from his bed and slid it easily over his head. He was right that it was a little big, but he remedied the dilemma by stuffing some of the shirt in his jeans.

“Alright, time to get some air for once,” Dipper mumbled to himself, kicking his towel closer to the door and grabbing a pair of weathered sneakers as well as the crinkled plaid shirt from the floorboards.

Everything slipped on easily enough, the worn soles of his sneakers making little no noise against the floor as he forced himself to walk downstairs. As opposed to his shoes, the shacks old floorboards shrieked under the pressure of Dipper’s feet. He only paused at the front door to flip the open sign to closed as he pulled it open and hesitantly stepped outside.

The sky was like something from a painting, smooth strokes of orange over pink and yellow. The sun was barely peeking out from behind trees, leaving dots and streams of light over everything. Dipper stretched his arms over his head with a pleasing pop before walking into the forest's depths, rolling up the sleeves of his plaid button up to his elbows. He regretted not bringing anything with him, though Dipper guessed his smarts were enough if he got into any trouble. It’d been a few weeks of running the shop when he even noticed that people were coming less and less, no doubt because of the battlefield that Gravity Falls was contorted into. Something like that must’ve left people sore about monsters and the like, effortlessly driving tourists away from the neutral populace.

Dipper stared at the ground almost out of anger. He’d refrained from venturing into the woods if only not to stumble across _his_ body...however confined and motionless, it made his chest constrict and burn. The sleep deprived man decided he wasn’t wandering along a specific path but walking around aimlessly until something caught his attention, though when that _something_ finally did, his chest ached with a dull pain that sent chills up his spine.

Vines had crept up the triangular slab of stone, engulfing it almost completely. Bundles of forget-me-nots peeked out from behind it. The sight itself forced Dipper to narrow his eyes at the irony and march up to the harmless stone. His hand reached out to brush away stubborn leaves from the perpetually open eye that stared at him. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t unsettling, a mossy hand outstretched toward him. Stepping away from his little work, Dipper glared at weathered grave-esque triangle.

“Huh. This is weird.”

He wasn’t expecting a response, but when he received none he was only a little disappointed. Dipper took it upon himself to sit in front of the statue with his legs crossed, goosebumps scattering along his skin when the eye seemingly followed his movements.

A sigh slipped past his lips, fingers running through his hair. “Ah, so it’s one of _those_ things? You know, the paintings that follow you everywhere you go?” He paused, furrowing his brows. “And...I’m talking to myself.”

Dipper examined the lifeless demon more closely, following little patches where the stone was chipped or caked in flora up to the top hat that was surely close to crumbling. He resisted the urge to speak more lest he look insane, yet he couldn’t help but to run a finger over the imprinted brick pattern almost completely buried in the dirt.

Seeing this lifeless being, Dipper figured his mind would be put to ease. It wasn’t. His hand recoiled from the stone as if he’d been burned, parting his lips and throwing his sanity to the wind.

“This should feel better,” he muttered, licking his lips and looking away to the pale azure flowers that undeniably looked out of place. He was tempted to pull them from the dirt among other things.

His dull gaze studied the forget-me-nots carefully, the petals just barely brushing the weathered stone as was the sunlight filtering through the trees above. The sight itself was ethereal, almost holding a disposition that was far too calming. Dipper stared in awe despite the curling pit tightening in the middle of his chest, the remnants of anger fluttering under his skin. A scowl contorted his face, and he reached out to grip the frail flora stems. They were easily uprooted, clumps of dirt falling from the stems as Dipper angrily stood. He glared down at the immobile demon with a tight grip on the delicate flowers.

“You hardly deserve these, huh?” He pulled the flowers in front of him, careful not to smear the dirt of their roots on his shirt. “Even if you _did_ apologize...which I doubt you would, I don't think I'd ever forgive you.”

For once, the brunette was pleased when he was answered with silence and continued.

“Then again, I doubt you'd forgive me either.” He paused, emptily chuckling to himself. “Even if I'm not really sorry...but I guess we'd have _that_ in common.”

Dirt stained his fingertips, the acrimony lilting his posture subsiding in favor of melancholy. No, he would never forgive the demon for his corrupted childhood despite the bitter victory the Pines family and Gravity Falls residents received. It was harshly branded into his mind, a memory he wouldn’t soon forget.

Dipper frowned as he thought on it, reaching up the relatively clean fingertips of his other hand to the soft petals within his line of sight. He gently fiddled with the flowers before pointedly looking away from them and to the remnants of Bill Cipher.

“At least I won't forget.”


End file.
